


What he Wouldn't Give

by Gonardo



Series: Sterek one shots [11]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Comfort, First Kiss, Happy Ending, Healing, Hurt Derek, M/M, Magic, Scott is a Good Friend, Some angst, True Love, power of sacrifice, pre slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-10
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-29 23:42:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3915070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gonardo/pseuds/Gonardo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek calls Stiles one night in pain. And when the human is at a loss, he calls for help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What he Wouldn't Give

**Author's Note:**

> I am a day late, sorry eey. But I got this done. sadly the one I wanted to finish, I am having a major block on.
> 
> This wasn't supposed to have angst in it...  
> uploading from my phone. sorry for the flub ups.

Stiles is busy on the computer working away on his latest project before the next dead line when his phone rings. He answers right away, blinking his tired eyes. "Hello."

"Stiles? Something is wrong," the voice hitches over the line.

"I am coming right over," Stiles is already reaching for his hoodie, keys jingling in the pocket. A distressed groan is his answer. In Stilinski fashion, the half full can of mountain dew gets tipped over, and he picks it up with a curse. The sticky goodness soaking into a page of recent notes, nothing he can't replace.

Jogs to his new Jeep, while Roscoe, poor girl gave out the past spring. Starts it with ease, eyes roaming behind him, then to the mirrors to double check before pulling away.

*  
Derek is burning up with a magic fever, brow damp with sweat, chest heaving, fighting for air. The metal door opens with a loud protest, then a familiar scent hits him, making the wolf keen.

"Holy shit!" Stiles exclaims, rushing over. "What happened Der?"

"Magic," he says, mind starting to clear.

"What kind?" Stiles asks softly, brushing hair from the older man's forehead.

"I don't know," he stammers while looking around wildly. "How'd you get here so fast?"

"Doesn't matter, how you feeling?"

"Different, off. Like I am human again, but not quite."

Stiles nods his head, assessing the situation, looking Derek over from head to toe. He hates seeing the wolf like this, in pain and looking a little lost. Puts his palm over the sweating brow, making the Were whimper.

"Am I making it worse?" Stiles asks.

"No, your touch feel good. It cools the fire."

"Shit," the human mutters under his breath. "Just hold tight, I am going to get a wash cloth. Be right back."

Derek can only nod softly as the younger man walks quickly to the bathroom, running the cloth under cool water. Derek moans as its being brushed against sensitive skin. "I am going to take your clothes off," he tells him and Derek mutters a broken off affirmative. "Good wolf."

Derek's head swims at the praise. Stiles makes surprisingly quick work of his clothes, that are damp with sweat. Bringing the cloth back to go over the wolf's still heaving chest. There is a gasp, the sudden trembling.

 

"Derek!" Stiles starts to panic.

"It hurts so much," the Were pants out. Soft lips brush his temple, sparks of something crackling in the air.

"I'm right here. Not going anywhere, I swear," Stiles bites out. Throat feeling closed off, tears stinging his swirling amber eyes.

"I know that," Derek wheezes. That is when Stiles loses it, sobbing bitterly, thinking of his mom. "It's okay..." Of course he tries to comfort him, oh god, what if... What if he.. Stiles can't finish the thought. Instead he calls Scott, whom he hadn't talked to in a long time. "Stiles?" The young wolf sounds hopeful.

"I need your help, please!" He starts sobbing again. "Call Deaton and have him come over, something is wrong with Derek. Just, please," he whines.

"I'm on my way." And just like that they are brothers again, Stiles doesn't deserve Scott.

*

Alan Deaton's eyes widen in surprise, Scott covers his nose to the smell of on coming death. Stiles hovers over Derek whom is laying serenly still.

"How long has he been like this?"

"I got the call about twenty seven minutes ago, and found him like this," Stiles blinks back tears that threaten to fall. Alan and Scott share a look.

"It's a good thing that you called then."

"Can you help him?" Stiles asks.

"We will do all that we can for Derek. I think it best if you move back," Stiles stiffens at that. "But only for a moment," he adds, assuring the emtional young man.

"Okay," he nods, and woodenly steps back.

*

Alan and Scott talk quietly to one another, not far from where Derek lies still. Stiles thinks he looks like a corpse. Except there is sweat along his forehead and upper lip, and long with the occasional flutter of movement under his lids. Stiles feels helpless standing there, biting away at already short nails, racking his brain for an answer. There has to be one, right? He asks himself, feeling sick.

The longer it goes, the more the young man feels himself slipping from reality until Deaton is standing in front of him with a knowing look to his face, one could almost call gentle. That would also mean that they didn't know the man himself, being egnimatic as he is.

"Stiles," his name floats softly to his ears and he squints at the vet. "I think I may have some answers, but I don't think you will like them," he adds.

"And how is that different from any other time, exactly?" Stiles falls back to the familiar, sarcasm, and something like pity crosses the other man's features, leaving Stiles angry. "Is this the part that you say something like 'not all hope is lost' and then add 'it does however come with a price.' Or how about_" he begins.

"Stiles please, just listen, this is serious." Like he needs the reminder.

"Of course it is," he rubs both hands across his face. "All right, I'm listening."

The vet nods his head gently, before looking at Scott who has been listening in. The young wolf nods his head, encouraging him to go on. This isn't good.

"Do you recall the sacrifice you made to find your father?" Like it is even possible to forget. He finds that his father is missing, along with Scott's mom and Allison's dad. Not to mention the shit storm that followed. Being dunked into freezing water only to come around after nearly a full day has passed, then being tormented by the nogistune. He shakes his head from the gut wrenching memories. "So what do I have to do to get Derek back to normal?" Stiles asks.

Deaton nods his head, then looks deep into his eyes, Stiles feels the hairs on his arms stand up, a trickle of unease snakes down his spine...

"Well, like that, you have to make a sacrifice. Though not as deadly, or dark, you still need to give a piece of you so to speak to give that spark life. From there it isn't up to us."

Stiles feels his gut churn, not for the fact he has to give something up. Hell he does that every other day without thought. No, it was because even then he could lose Derek.

"Okay. I'll do it," nods his head. Deaton looks pleased before schooling his features, and Scott looks surprised. Stiles just shrugs, feeling a bit helpless.

"Call us back if you need anything," Scott comes over to grab his forearm, draining the stress and physcial ache from the fear. The human blinks in shock, but then gives him a smile. It wobbles but the young wolf knows that he means to give his thanks. The vet goes through the doorway first after looking them both over. Stiles breathes deeply then walks backwards towards the bed.

Derek is now restless, twitching in his sleep. Stiles soothes him with a gentle touch, cooing nonesense. The other Were stills, his long time friend reminding him of his own mom, a nurse. Looks like the healing touch has worn off on the human. Derek is in no better hands than his. With that thought, leaves, shutting the door quietly behind him.

*  
The pendant is warm from laying across his heart, where it has been for the past several years. It makes him feel safer somehow, like he has his mom with him where ever he goes. She was glowing when she told the story, about how John got it for her on one of their dates. A whirlwind romance they say.

His eyes sting at the memories, but he knows that Claudia wouldn't mind. So the heart attatched to a long chain starts to rest over the wolf's heart now. It is faint, an echo of power slowly draining away.

Stiles closes his eyes and bows his head, lips moving. As he prays, thinking of his mother, a faint glow appearing. Long slender fingers are now haloed by a soft gold, it moves to slowly spread across Derek's heart. The pendant acting as a gateway between the two. The human places the clasp closed, gently kissing the Were's temple.

With the energy now spent, Stiles curls around the now warming body. The glow has yet to disappear.

*

Derek is aware of several things upon waking. His body is still sore from the wretched witch's blast. Next is a body wrapped around his, warm from sleep. After that, it is daylight outside, the room lit up from the sun.

His body is making demands, first his bladder is about to burst, and second is his empty stomach. Bathroom first, kitchen second.

A movement on his still damp chest has him rasing his brows in question. Reaching for it, noticing the shape and weight of it. Brows now furrowing, he rubs a thumb across it, causing energy to flow to him.

A sound startles him, as he turns around to see Stiles smack his lips and starfish across the bed, looking for his warmth. Derek smiles softly before padding to the bathroom.

After washing his hands, he decides to take a quick shower to remove the stale sweat from his skin. Grabs some comfortable sweats and shirt, before heading back to the room. Grimacing at the tacky feeling of old sweat. Pauses to look at the necklace while turning on the tap. Energy, soft and warm hums once more, making him think of the human in his bed. Although the events from last night still hazy.

After washing off, feeling much more like himself, the wolf stalks down stairs to the kitchen, opening the fridge to take a look at the contents. Taking out eggs, bacon and a stick of butter he starts to work on breakfast. It helps clear his thoughts a bit, familiar movements along with the scents of food cooking taking over.

*

Stiles wakes to the smell of bacon and eggs, the wolf bringing to him, while he was still in bed. His face heats up, thinking of them in a domesticated sense. Derek does the brow thing, so Stiles makes the grabby hands gesture towards the food. He inhales deeply, and moans softly. Two things banned from the Stilinski house hold, and he gets to eat both.

Derek just grins while holding out a hot cup of coffee. It smells heavenly, not to mention sweet. Stiles gasps as the hot liquid has a hint of vanilla, sweet just how he likes it. Licks his lips, obscene in Derek's mind. Then goes about inhaling his food and coffee. After he just flops back in bed and whimpers. Heart beating rapidly now, face heating up. So he just turns his head and buries it into the wolf's pillow. Big mistake, it smells just like him.

"Can I get you anything else?" Derek asks, as if feeding him wasn't enough. It brings Stiles back from hiding long enough to answer.

"No. This was more than enough, thanks," he replies softly.

"If anything, Stiles. It should be me thanking you for last night," the wolf tells him.

"I'm just glad that you're okay. We were really worried," Stiles looks at him under his lashes.

"We?" Derek asks.

"Yeah. Things looked pretty bad last night so I called for help. Scott and Deaton showed up last night."

"Well, it looks like things ended up pretty well. Thanks again, for staying," the Were's eyes are fathomless.

"Anytime," Stiles nods his head.

"That's just it, you mean it. Every single time. You had me arrested, then went out of your way to clear me, while I was a fugitive," Derek tells him. Stiles' face heats up from the memories. "I bust in your room, shove you against the door, and you wouldn't give in."

Stiles feels his eyes grow large. "Yeah well, I was trespassing. Along with making trouble for you. So I guess it makes us even?" He asks.

"If anything I owe you. Thank you Stiles, for always being there and giving yourself. I don't deserve it"

"That is not true," Stiles reminds him. Derek only shrugs his shoulders, while the human gapes at him, rant forming in his mind, when Derek suddenly leans down. Eyes soft, lips close enough to feel his breath ghost across his own.

"So that's how I get you to be quiet," he teases. Stiles gasps, opening his lush lips for a sharp reply when the wolf kisses him. The human stills, then wraps his arms around him and pulls at him. Derek gets with the program and lies on top of him, cupping Stiles' face in his hands.

"You're so beautiful," Derek is glowing as he says this, eyes taking him in. Mapping his face, before tracing the up turned nose, then the cupid bow of his upper lip. It leaves a tingling sensation, Stiles whines, then attacks Derek's mouth. The wolf lets the human seek entrance to his mouth, sleek tongue slipping inside. They both moan, the glowing golden light returns, to cover both of them.

Stiles can feel his mom's necklace warm and steady against his own heart. He thanks her as he wraps himself around his sourwolf.


End file.
